Luke 10:25-37 [Doing Church] Friday morning I was working in my office at the Church House, and I got a call from Thekla Metz.

Transcription

1 Luke 10:25-37 [Doing Church] Friday morning I was working in my office at the Church House, and I got a call from Thekla Metz. She was calling to let me know that there was a prayer vigil at Second Baptist Church set to begin at noon. To my great dismay and embarrassment, I hesitated. I paused, as if to ask myself, do I want to do this? Melia was out of the office, so perhaps I needed to stay put. Then I realized that I had a prior commitment to have lunch with my mother. In the midst of my mental muddle, I told Thekla that I could not attend with her. Still, my mind wouldn t rest. To whom would it matter if I showed up? Or if I didn t show up. Does the presence of one person matter? How could one hour possibly make a difference in the vast sea of violence in which we are drowning? We can pray from whereever we are, how might coming together to pray make a more significant impact? I surmised that if I went back to my work that these questions would subside. But noooooo! Every , every news article, every blog that I read was filled with frustration, expressions of paralysis, and agony over the deaths of black men in our nation. It wasn t until I read a post by a friend of mine in Louisiana, that I snapped out of my own inertia. My friends Alex and Brett are both Euro-american pastors, and they adopted two children about 8 years ago an African American boy from Texas, and a Guatemalan girl. Alex was responding to the shooting deaths of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile by police officers on Thursday when she wrote: When folks ask what I am doing to protect my brown and black children from police violence and systemic racism, I'm going to ask what they are doing to keep their white children from perpetrating violence and benefitting from systemic racism. 1

2 Her boldness startled me. Of all the possible things I could be doing at that moment, sitting and reading in my office was not the thing that was going to bring change and hope to a hurting world. I called my mom to cancel lunch, checked in with the good volunteers at the lunch program, and went to the vigil. I expected a packed house every other time I have been to a service or event at Second Baptist church, it was standing room only. There were 45 or 50 people there. The voice in my head was that of Margaret Mead: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has. Thekla was in the front row on the right side; behind her sat Rabbi Andrea London from Beth Emet Temple, and in the front row of the center section was a gathering of Evanston police officers. It was clear that this was going to be a significant event. One of the officers spoke, a 50 something African American man, telling us how his self-image of being a policeman had changed how public opinion had made it difficult to feel pride in his profession. He spoke from the heart about his desire for the well-being of all people in Evanston, and about his own fears on the job. He humbly reminded us that the officers who are dedicated to service are human. We applauded and shared his grief over the death of 5 colleagues in Dallas. Rev. Nabors, the pastor, stood and spoke of his 17 year old daughter, a new Evanston High School graduate, who posted on her Facebook page that morning, I m Tired. Rev. Nabors marveled at how a young person could be tired, and at the same time, we all knew what she meant. She was feeling the kind of tired that comes from being world-worn; the kind of tired that you feel in your bones from too much living and too much hurting; The kind of tired that is born from being pushed 2

3 down so consistently that you just can t imagine having the strength to get up again. This is the kind of tired she was feeling. The pastor asked for a word of hope for his daughter. It was a struggle for anyone to come up with a word of hope! Many tried, including myself, but our words didn t seem to be enough to instill the promise of something better. But then, the pastor s daughter herself, Spencer, got up to speak. She didn t have a lot to say, but she announced that she was spearheading a Black Lives Matter youth rally in Evanston. This was the light we had been hoping for this was the possibility in which we could stand up, greet each other, and see a different future ahead. I thought of another quote in that moment from the prophet Isaiah: The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. So, when I was lost in sermon preparation at home on Saturday, and I got a text from a clergy friend in Evanston saying, youth Black Lives Matter rally at fountain square now I did not hesitate to put on my shoes, get in the car, and GO. And sure enough, there was the hope. Black, white, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, lesbian, gay, straight, transgender, affluent, struggling, laughing, crying everyone was there. Mostly the youth were there. And they were positive, creative, indignant, powerful, and purposeful. They engaged us all by inviting us to take hands and look into each other s eyes as we professed that each person s destiny and well-being is wrapped up in the destiny and well-being of the other. And we made this profession in Spanish and in English. There is a shift happening, and it is coming from an unlikely source. 3

4 When Jesus told the parable of the good Samaritan, he was trying to get this same idea across to the lawyer who asked who is my neighbor? The neighbor is the least likely one you can ever imagine. Your neighbor is the one with whom your destiny and well-being is intertwined. Your neighbor is the one you never even see. It is the Samaritan that you shun, but who tends to the wounds of the victim. It is the Muslim whose customs you don t understand, who is praying for peace five times a day. It is the African American young woman passing you on the street, so she can lead the rally in your home town. Your neighbor is the one whose people hurt you in the past, but who is now showing mercy. Your neighbor is the person next door you have never met, AND the Facebook friend in India with whom you chat every day who vote for elected officials that work for non-violent resolutions to conflict. Your neighbor is the one whose religion and politics you disagree with the most, but who also is working against hunger and homelessness. // Doug Muder, a blogger from Nashua, New Hampshire, draws a parallel between the good Samaritan and the Black Lives Matter movement. At the end of the parable, Jesus asked the lawyer, Who was a neighbor to [the man who was attacked]? And the lawyer responds, The one who had mercy on him. (Some theologians speculate that the lawyer phrases it this way because he can t bring himself to say The Samaritan was a neighbor to him. ) My question is: Why did Jesus make it all so specific? The third man could have been anybody, and the point could have been Anybody can be your neighbor. (If he d put it that way, the lawyer probably would have had no trouble saying it.) The same thing is going on with Black Lives Matter. It isn t meant to say Black lives matter more than white lives any more than Jesus was trying to say 4

5 that Samaritans are better than Judeans. The point of saying Black lives matter is that it sticks in the throat of a lot of white Americans. By contrast, Lives matter and All lives matter are nice, feel-good abstractions. Muder continues in his commentary, I can easily imagine Jesus wanting to impress on us that we ought to take the lives of other people more seriously. Maybe he d tell us a parable to get that idea across. But would his main character, the one whose life we should take more seriously, be a generic human being? I doubt it. I think he might well tell us a story about a person of color, maybe even a big scary-looking one. Until we understood that his life mattered, we wouldn t have gotten the point. That was from Doug Muder. It is time for us to get the point. It is time for us to follow the youth, to listen to the victims, and to act with mercy. It is time to motivate our actions, conversations, reading and voting with the belief that Black Lives Matter. It is time to disarm those who want to make things right through violence. It is time to incorporate police officers and citizens into one community. It is time to proclaim the hope that we have as people of faith hope in the God who brings light and peace and healing to a world in need. Take the story of the Good Samaritan to heart tell it to yourself with various characters playing the roles of victim, passers-by and the one showing mercy. Then, as Jesus instructed those around him, identify the neighbor in the story, and go and do likewise. Amen. 5

6 People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway. If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway. The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway. People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway. People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway. Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway. Kent Keith 6

7 Luke Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. Teacher, he said, what must I do to inherit eternal life? 26 He said to him, What is written in the law? What do you read there? 27 He answered, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself. 28 And he said to him, You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live. 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, And who is my neighbor? 30 Jesus replied, A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend. 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers? 37 He said, The one who showed him mercy. Jesus said to him, Go and do likewise. 7